


The Gathering

by fhsa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drabble, Episode Related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-31
Updated: 2003-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-05 18:07:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12799554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhsa_archivist/pseuds/fhsa_archivist
Summary: Sequal to Freshman Haze, part of the Princeton Series.  Mid-terms are over at Princeton and it's time for a party.





	The Gathering

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Haven, the archivist: This story was originally archived at [Fandom Haven Story Archive (FHSA)](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Fandom_Haven_Story_Archive), was scheduled to shut down at the end of 2016. To preserve the archive, I began working with the OTW to transfer the stories to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. If you are this creator and the work hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Fandom Haven Story Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/fhsa/profile).

*** *** ***

How in the hell had a full third of the semester slipped by, Lex mused from the dubious comfort of his 

small dormitory bed. Normally an quick riser, he kept his eyes closed to the early sun and shouldered

deeper into the down comforter. Mid-October mornings were chilly in New Jersey and he found he enjoyed the last few minutes before getting out of the warm bed.

 

"You have the most incredible body," Clark whispered, his mouth against the skin behind Lex's ear. His arms were wrapped around Lex's chest as he kept them spooned together. "Why aren't you on any of the sports teams? "

 

"What brought that up?"

 

"Cause you're strong and athletic, and you have this incredible body, and it just seems like you ought to be playing sports."

 

Lex knew his lover well enough to know that he wouldn't hear the end of this until he came up with an answer Clark liked. "I did and I intend to again. Satisfied?" he hedged.

 

"What did you play?"

 

"I didn't 'play' anything," Lex replied with a studied disinterest that might have been indignance. 

 

"Okay, Lex, could you cut me some slack here? You're a little better at word games than I am. You practice more."

 

"But you are so much better at other games," Lex growled sweetly, looking over his shoulder at Clark and 

snuggling back into the broad chest.

 

Clark kissed the back of his neck for his efforts. He shifted, turning onto his back and wiggling his way underneath his lover. Clark weighed far more than he looked but Lex was no slouch himself. Although slender, he was, as Clark had noted, solid and strong. And he loved the sensation of Clark pressing him into the mattress. Or fucking him through it, whichever was happening at the time. Lex was tall but Clark

was taller, his hands were larger; Lex loved being overshadowed by the beautiful freshman. For such a large, strong person, Clark was remarkably gentle. He had a temper, too, Lex had seen it flare though he'd never seen it lost. 

 

Lex knew that Clark had secrets, just as he knew that Clark kept his. Clark never told any of the things he knew about Lex and Lex knew that plenty had asked. 

 

What a remarkable find, Lex thought, smiling up into soft green eyes. And mine.

 

"What?" Clark frowned. 

 

"What?" Lex repeated back to him.

 

"You've got that look on your face, the one that looks like you're plotting world dominion."

 

"World dominion is a vacuous goal, " Lex dismissed. "Pedestrian, at best." 

 

Clark's eyes widened in surprise. "Really?"

 

"Think about it; what comes after that?" Lex shrugged. "There'd be no one to compete with, nothing to

better, what good is that? And why tire yourself with the effort of keeping it all under your hand? Why not simply set yourself after the biggest and the best and leave the rest to gage yourself against."

 

Clark didn't answer, as if trying to figure out where Lex was going.

 

"Not the world, Clark, the United States. President." He sensed that he was more intense than the moment warranted and pulled back. "You'd look good in the Oval Office," he complimented. "Right by my side, my press secretary. And if the reporters asked a question I didn't want to answer, you could just pulverize them," he teased, lightening the mood.

 

"Your press secretary, huh? Sounds more like your hired goon!" Clark grumped sternly, but Lex could see the humor return in the green eyes.

 

Clark rolled off of Lex and spooned behind him again, the narrow dorm bed not allowing much else in the way of actually sleeping or lying. He nuzzled into the juncture of Lex's collar and neck, reaching over to take Lex's hand and cuddling it close to his chest. Lex felt like he was being wrapped in a warm, soft, 225 pound blanket.

 

The only thing missing was the feeling of being smothered that a month-old relationship usually left him with. If anything, he was more infatuated.

 

"Fencing," he confessed..

 

"Fencing?"

 

"I competed in fencing."

 

"Were you good?"

 

"Fairly good; I held my own," Lex expounded modestly. He didn't mention that he also held several collegiate titles.

 

"Fencing, huh?" Clark snuggled closer.

 

"Do you have something against fencers?"

 

"Nope, I think fencing is pretty cool. I wouldn't mind learning it."

 

"Studying it," Lex corrected. "You study fencing. And if you're serious about it, you could always join the Fencing Club."

 

"As a beginner?"

 

"There's a huge difference in the Fencing Club which anyone can join and the Fencing Team which you tryout for," Lex explained.

 

"And you're trying out for the team, right?"

 

"I am."

 

"And you're good, huh?"

 

Lex wiggled his ass into Clark's groin. "Want to see how good I am with my sword?" He wiggled again.

 

Clark's hands were instantly at his hips, stilling him. "No," he pleaded. "Don't start doing that!"

 

"Why not?" Lex demanded.

 

"Cause I have to be at practice in half an hour and it's embarrassing to walk to the showers and brush your teeth with a hard-on. Josh always stares at me."

 

"I could always go with you to protect you," Lex offered.

 

"Oh, yeah, you and me and a shower stall. I'd never make it to practice!"

 

"Clark, it's the weekend after mid-terms! Notorious as the first major blowout post freshman week. The Student Faire is on the compound. Didn't anyone tell your diving coach?"

 

"I don't think so. What about you're fencing coach?"

 

"Apparently not," Lex conceded. "Between your diving and my tryouts, we probably won't see each other until late this afternoon."

 

"I know," Clark groaned, snuggling closer to Lex's warm body.

 

Lex shifted his hips experimentally, seeing how much room he had to maneuver. Clark was truly a morning person, he woke up daily with a hard-on that Lex was more than willing to help with. Today was no exception. Lex stretched again and rewarded by Clark's strong fingers pulling him backwards. The ride of friction across his cock was electrifying and Clark jerked him closer, no longer holding him still but grinding Lex's hips against his groin. He turned Lex underneath him and pressed his hips into Lex's groin, their cocks rubbing together.

 

"I said: Quit. Doing. That." Clark repeated.

 

"This?" Lex feigned innocence and pushed his hips upward. "Or this?" He pulled Clark's hips down to his.

 

Clark leaned down and licked Lex's lazy smile. He pulled back and said "And that."

 

"What?"

 

He pulled away and Lex caught his finger, wrapping his tongue around it "That smile. It drives me crazy." 

Clark kissed the corner of Lex's mouth, closing his teeth carefully on Lex's upper lip and tugging back gently. His tongue flicked into the corner of Lex's lips when he let go, earning a hungry moan for his trouble.

 

Clark traced Lex's lower lip with his finger, pulled it down and traced the inside of it with his tongue. He ran his finger across Lex's lower teeth and pulled his mouth open, holding it that way while he kissed his lover fully, no teasing little nips or strokes. He slipped his tongue between Lex's lips and found Lex's tongue, stroking it with his own, and sucking it into his mouth. He let go and licked Clark's palm, taking

Clark's wrist in his hand and licking a long stripe onto the skin there as well. Hunger and desire flared intensely in Clark and Lex could see it in his eyes. He stroked Clark's face and pulled him down to catch his mouth in another deep kiss. He caressed Clark's jaw with his open mouth, working along to the earlobe with his hands buried in Clark's hair.

 

"I want to bury my cock in your ass," he whispered low and felt Clark shudder. 

 

Seduction was a skill he'd spent long years honing and Clark was his reward.

 

Dive practice long forgotten, Clark rolled to his side facing the wall. Lex retrieved the bottle of Liquid Silk from the floor beside the bed and generously applied it to himself before slipping his fingers between Clark's asscheeks. He teased the hole, slicking the skin around it. Rubbing his cock into the cleft a few times, he positioned the head at the entrance of Clark's body. He pushed until the head slipped easily past the ring of muscle and paused, waiting.

 

He didn't wait long.

 

"Fuck me, Lex!" Clark demanded in that fragile, unsteady voice that Lex craved. 

 

He pushed himself in as deeply as he could. He knew it was the way Clark enjoyed it the most, no slow, easy thrusts, just hard and fast and all at once. It was the way he liked it, too, and few of his lovers had ever been able to take him like this. He pulled out and pushed in again hard, Clark's hand tightening into a fist where he braced himself against the wall, pushing back onto Lex. Lex continued thrusting into Clark, watching Clark's body devour his cock greedily, watching the play of emotion and pleasure on Clark's face.

 

Fucking beautiful boys was his favorite thing to do. The hell with being the heir to the Luthor name and fortune; this was what he'd been born to do. And like everything else in his life, he did it well.

 

He reached over his lover and found Clark's cock, hard and weeping and fully erect where it bobbed against the ripped stomach. He stroked it and then, on impulse, slapped the deeply purple flesh. Hard. With a strangled cry, Clark bucked back against Lex and came, hot and fast onto the bed. The immediateness of Clark's orgasm startled Lex as well and he came as Clark's ass clenched around him.

 

Waves of sensation shocked through him, warming his body and sating his mind. 

 

Lex pulled himself out and Clark wanted to say stop, or don't, but he knew he had to make dive practice - it was a condition of his scholarship. Lex glanced at the clock while Clark climbed over him.

 

"You're going to be late."

 

Clark pulled on underwear and sweats. "I'll shower at the pool," he dismissed, pulling a sweatshirt over his head and grabbing his well-worn Oasics. In truth he didn't want to shower yet, for now he wanted to feel Lex's come leaking out of his ass. His stomach quivered at what it implied.

 

"Take the Porsche," Lex offered, swinging his legs to the floor. His cock lay against his thigh, glistening with lube and Lex's come. Even spent and flaccid Clark found it beautiful, arousing. He shoved his feet into the shoes.

 

"I'll run. It's only a couple of buildings over and I need the time to kinda come down, you know?"

 

"Would you rather I drove you?"

 

Clark glanced down at Lex's cock again. "If you did, I don't think we'd get there."

 

Lex grinned. "I'll see you this afternoon then."

 

Clark had his hand on the door before he impulsively came back to Lex and kissed him. "Okay."

 

He wanted to say more, Lex could see it in his face. But instead Clark opened the door and was gone before Lex could reply to the unspoken words.

 

"Yeah," he whispered experimentally to the empty room. "Me, too."

 

He got up and showered, deciding to go for breakfast before the fencing auditions.

 

 

*** *** ***

 

 

Several hopefuls had taken up position around the room, flexing and stretching, going through basic maneuvers while waiting for tryouts to commence. Lex did the same, going through the motions flawlessly, using the exercise to cover his observation of the other fencers. He evaluated them for weaknesses and stronger points. One of the coaches moved to the center of the piste.

 

"I would like to thank everyone for showing up for trials today. We are here to select a competition team that will be representing Princeton for the year. There are 7 open positions on the fencing squad. Good Luck!"

 

Another member of the judging panel stepped forward and directed the applicants to divide themselves into epee, foil and sabre divisions.

 

"Epee!" called the head Coach. 

 

Sorel Westin stepped up to mat and gave off a quick salute to the judges. Lex and three others lined up next to the bright blue mat. The coach pointed to the man standing closest to him and motioned him onto the mat. They squared off, engaging in the precise movements of the stylized duel.

 

Each applicant took his turn. The coach called for "Foils" next. Lex stepped up the edge of the piste again, confusing the coach.

 

"Mr. Luthor, do you intend to audition in all three disciplines?"

 

"Yes, I thought I might let you make the choice as to where the team could best use me."

 

A faint ripple of laughter murmured through the other students gathered there.

 

"Mr. Luthor," the coach continued, "are you most proficient with the epee, the sabre, or the foil?"

 

"Yes," Lex replied again.

 

"It is customary for a fencer to concentrate his efforts in one area."

 

"You're new here, aren't you?" Lex commented vaguely.

 

One of the referees walked over to the coach and spoke to him briefly.

 

"All right, Mr. Luthor. Take your place."

 

Lex didn't point out that he'd never moved from it.

 

After rotating through the sabre tryouts as well, Lex didn't wait for the results. He packed his sabre beside the other two weapons and locked the carry-case. He picked up the case and went to the locker room to change. Everyone else was still standing around waiting when he returned. 

 

"I assume that results will be posted later today?" he asked the nearest line coach.

 

"They'll be in the school bulletin tomorrow, too," the woman confirmed.

 

"Thank you." He walked over to the benches where he'd dropped his gym bag.

 

"Are you sure you're good enough to place on the Team, Luthor? Two years is a long break." Warren's

annoying voice was the last thing Lex had wanted to hear.

 

"I didn't take a break from my fencing, Warren, only Princeton. Fencing has been a lifelong interest of mine, not just something I thought would look good on my transcript. And yes, I'm sure I'm more than good enough."

 

"Well, I'm sure it helps to have Daddy pay for a private fencing coach."

 

"Actually, Warren, it helps to have a modicum of talent," Lex corrected matter-of-factly, "a variable I'm certain you've never had to factor into any equation." 

 

Lex snatched up his bag and left the training arena without waiting to hear Warren's snappy comeback - or lack of one. He was annoyed, annoyed that his talent and hard work had been so cheaply dismissed, annoyed that he was forced to perform among people who were so obviously immature. Inferior was one thing, under those auspices one simply worked harder to overcome limitations but childish behavior had neither cure nor cause. 

 

Through his anger he was still intimately aware of when Clark fell in behind him, grinning.

 

"I think I get why these guys don't like you."

 

Lex stopped dead in his tracks and swung around, causing a startled Clark to walk into him. Unprepared for the impact, Lex took an involuntary half-step back. While he'd realized early on that Clark was rock-solid and even stronger than he looked, he was discovering every day just what the extent of that strength might be. 

 

Self-discoveries could wait; for now he was angry. Angry at the idiot in the fencing class for his taunting, angry at himself for letting the idiot get to him, angry at Clark for realizing people didn't like him.

 

"Really!" he snapped. "Then please, enlighten the rest of us with your extempore insights."

 

Clark blinked, speechless, his easy smile fading.

 

"Go ahead, Clark, believe me, I can't wait - " 

 

Clark stepped back, confused by Lex's tirade.

 

"Well?" Lex demanded.

 

"I went by the library and looked you up," he explained, holding out a printed page of the Princeton Fencing Review's Biography section. 

 

Lex glanced at it and could tell it was his from two years ago just from the picture. 

 

"You sorta underestimated yourself, Lex; you're not a 'fairly good' fencer; you're fucking incredible." Clark's voice had a harshness Lex hadn't heard before. "Seven collegiate titles, ranked fifth in the World Cup, fourth in the World Standings, and a 4.0 grade point average. I was going to say it's no wonder they don't like you because you're a tough act to follow." Clark slapped the sheet of paper against Lex's chest and didn't wait to see if he took it. He walked past Lex and kept going. 

 

Lex swallowed hard, his hand automatically going to the page and holding it to him. He opened his mouth to say something but Clark was walking away. Lex watched him go, trying to think of what to say. The heavy metal door of the building scraped into its frame, shutting the younger man out leaving Lex behind. 

 

On the other side of the door Clark found himself on the sidewalk in front of the building, drifting generally in the direction of his dorm. He wasn't sure of exactly what he'd done or why Lex was upset but he didn't think he'd deserved what he'd got. Lex had been moody before but never like this. Instead of going back to their room he turned toward the pool house, changing his bearings as easily as he'd changed his mind.

 

Lex watched him enter the large building that housed the pool and diving platforms. He followed, arriving in time to see Clark drop his shirt on a bleacher seat and toe off his shoes. The building was empty except for the two of them. Next Clark slid his jeans off, still wearing the distinctive, metallic black swim-briefs underneath. 

 

Speedo's on Clark Kent in public should be illegal, Lex decided.

 

Clark made his way up the ladder to the high dive platform. He moved with quiet grace, hand over hand, far more fluidly than a simple human being should have been capable of. Reaching the platform, Clark settled himself, exhaling and shaking out his arms. He crossed the diveboard in three long strides and positioned himself on the edge of the fixed platform. With only the balls and toes of his feet left on solid

footing and his back to the pool, Clark stretched his arms out to either side. Flexing his knees, he launched himself upward, twisting once mid-air, his body extended, pointed like an arrow. He tucked himself into a spin, legs straight, and tumbled toward the water. At the last moment he unfolded his body, entering the water with little back-splash. Lex could make out the dusky form distorted by the rippled surface as Clark pushed off the bottom and toward the far end of the pool. Strong strokes propelled him, still submerged, through the clearing water. He turned slow and lazy at the concrete wall and struck out for the deeper end again. Once there he surfaced, pulling his long body up on the side of the pool, hanging there suspended by straight arms. 

 

Water plastered Clark's dark hair to his neck and sluiced off the firm muscles of his back and shoulders. Clark pushed his feet under him and stood.

 

God, he was beautiful.

 

The outer doors opened and closed, letting in loud, teasing voices, shaking Lex from his observation. He exhaled a breath he hadn't known he was holding. It was time for swim team practice. He watched Clark grab his clothing and disappear into the shower room, his footfalls slapping distinctly against the concrete. 

 

Lex left as well, thinking he would wait for Clark at their room.

 

Clark showered quickly and stopped in front of the mirrors, vigorously toweling off his hair. He ran a hand through the shaggy locks that had grown long in the time that he'd been at Princeton. He'd meant to get a haircut but somehow never got around to it. The longer hair made him look younger, boyish, more like an 18-year-old freshman from Kansas. He wrapped the towel around his waist and walked out to his locker. 

 

"Hey, Kent! Adult swim only, all divers out of the pool. Time for the real water sports to begin!"

 

"Yeah, Smallville! Don't you ever get tired of this place? Dive practice was over, like, two hours ago."

 

"Hey, guys!" Clark smiled at them.

 

Both new voices were light and teasing, and respectively belonged to Jeremy and Tanner of the rather

accomplished Princeton's Mens Swim Team. Clark had hit it off with them the first time they'd met. 

 

Tanner was a sophomore, stood an inch taller than Clark and was almost as big. Rumor had it that he was already a shoo-in for the Summer Olympics. Jeremy was a Senior from upstate New York. Both men were stripping out of orange and black windsuits, leaving the Speedo's they swam in. Jeremy finished undressing first.

 

"I'm gonna go warm up," he said, his fingers resting briefly on Tanner's solid shoulder. 

 

Clark knew most people would have missed the affectionate press of fingertips to flesh. He draped his towel over the door of his locker and fished around the bottom shelf for a pair of sweats that at least resembled clean.

 

"Something up? You don't seem like your usual Energizer Bunny-self," Tanner probed.

 

Clark shrugged. "I guess I kinda had a fight with Lex," he admitted, settling on the cotton pants issued to him by the Athletics Department.

 

"Anything serious?" Tanner knew all about Clark's relationship with the Luthor in question and while he was skeptical, he was also supportive. Ever the optimist, Tanner preferred not to believe everything he'd heard about Lex's first stint at Princeton although Jeremy had some pretty good stories. Stories Tanner had never passed on to Clark. 

 

"I hope not. We'll talk when I catch up to him later."

 

"Later, huh? Not doing the avoidance thing, are we?"

 

Clark shrugged again, sighing heavily.

 

"If you're not ready to talk, then don't. But don't let it go for too long, either," Tanner advised.

 

"I know." Clark pulled his sweatshirt over his head. "Thanks."

 

"Hey, if you're not ready to go back to your room yet, why don't you meet us over at the library in about hour. You can sit in on an SCA meeting and check us out. I know you'd have fun. If you like it, then bring Lex later."

 

When Clark didn't answer, Tanner took a step over. "I know you feel like you don't belong here at Princeton. I was a freshman last year, remember? You're probably feeling like you're from another planet right now. That's why 're the perfect club for you. We're all 'don't fits', too, way worse than anything you could be. And the gang would be fine with Lex," he insisted.

 

"I don't know," Clark hedged, knowing Lex had a reputation for being difficult around campus.

 

"Hey," Tanner placated. "Lex is just a different kind of misfit."

 

"Maybe," Clark offered ambiguously. 

 

Tanner slapped a large hand against Clark's upper arm. "See you there," he said pointedly. 

 

 

*** *** ***

 

Lex checked the clock again. It had been four hours since he left Clark at the pool and Clark hadn't returned to the dorm. He'd passed much of that time by reading the Epic of Gilgamesh, 26th translation. The book was rapidly losing his interest and he threw it across the small room. Without real intent, he found himself wandering over to the cabinet above the small sink and rifling through it. Pulling down one of the more legitimate-looking prescriptions, he shook two of the small pills out onto his palm. He washed them down with single-malt whiskey out of a plastic cup and cursed the sanctimonious administrators who forced him to live in cubicle-based environment. 

 

As the delicious, numbing warmth brought on by the pills drifted from his torso and onto his limbs, it occurred to him that they were the first he'd had since the day he had found Clark Kent unpacking in his room. His father would be so happy to see him like this. His father liked everything - including his son - to be predictable. 

 

 

*** *** ***

 

 

The key scraped in the lock and Lex was instantly awake. The door opened and closed quickly, letting Clark in.

 

"Clark," Lex began, swinging his legs to the floor.

 

"Shhh," Clark cut him off. He toed off his shoes and pulled his zippered sweat shirt over his head. He let it drop to the floor, hoping that Lex couldn't see as well in the dark as he could. Lex hated it when Clark left his clothes on the floor.

 

Clark climbed onto the small bed behind Lex, pulling his lover down, too, and curling close to the slender body. 

 

"Clark," he tried again.

 

"I don't want to talk about it, Lex, not right now. Please?"

 

Lex remained silent and within moments he could tell by the deep, steady breathing that Clark was fast asleep. When he woke in the morning, Clark was already gone. 

 

 

*** *** ***

 

 

Returning from his workout, Lex found the room door ajar and pushed it open excitedly. Clark was inside, standing over the small room sink they shared. 

 

"Clark! I guess I missed you this morning."

 

"I went to the SCA campsite for breakfast." He didn't look up at Lex when he spoke.

 

"The Society for Creative Anachronism?"

 

"They're a good group of guys," Clark defended.

 

"They're medieval role-players, Clark," he pointed out, sitting at the inadequate, college-supplied desk.

 

"Yeah, some of the guys from the swim team are really into it. I ran into them at the library last night and they said they were setting up a camp for the weekend's festivities. Asked me if I wanted to come by. They really get into it. You know you have to sew your own tent and make a plate and bowl and a lantern by hand, no sandpaper, no modern tools. There's a lot of history there." He was feeling more and more defensive. 

 

Lex made a dismissive noise. "Not to mention some creative interpretation of that history."

 

Clark sighed and hid his growing frustration. "Not everything has to be perfect."

 

Lex knew immediately that something was wrong. He didn't want to fight; he wanted to fuck Clark into next week. "About yesterday afternoon," he began.

 

"I coulda said what I did better." Clark was facing the man in the mirror while he spoke.

 

"The apology here is mine," Lex accepted. He got up and walked over to the sink, leaning against the wall. "I don't mind saying I'm wrong when I am."

 

When Clark didn't reply, Lex went on.

 

"You left yesterday while I was still figuring out what to say," he explained.

 

"Did you come up with anything?" Clark tried to come off as disinterested.

 

"Yeah, I did, Clark."

 

Clark turned around, doubt sketched plainly on his Davidian features.

 

"I'm sorry."

 

The two words floored Clark. He'd never heard Lex say them. To anyone.

 

"I upset you yesterday, and I know I don't want to do that again."

 

"I went there to see you fence. You said you were good at it, you said you enjoyed it. You didn't look like you were enjoying yourself at the try-outs. You looked like winning was the only thing that mattered. And when I spoke to you, you assumed that I was going to say something bad about you. I don't feel that way about you."

 

There was no recrimination, no accusatory tone or words. He couldn't have made Lex feel worse if he'd tried.

 

"Want to try it over?" Lex suggested. "I'll go back to the gym, you can show up, flatter me with my past glories, we'll pretend the rest of the day didn't happen and fuck each other until we can't walk. Whadaya say? Only," he corrected himself belatedly, "I don't want to give up the part right after the tryouts."

 

"After?" Clark echoed.

 

"When you went to the pool and you were wearing the black Speedo's."

 

"You followed me and watched me diving?"

 

"You only dove once, Clark."

 

Clark rolled his eyes.

 

"But the swimming was pretty nice. You look good wet." Lex was rewarded with a shy smile. "Why don't we go out tonight? Eat a good meal, find a hotel room with a Jacuzzi and a huge shower. What do you say?" 

 

"I can't." Clark hedged, looking apologetic. 

 

Lex looked startled. "Other plans?"

 

"I told Jeremy and Tanner I'd go to the SCA banquet tonight."

 

"They eat authentically, don't they?"

 

"Yeah, that's why I have to be back early."

 

"Why?" Lex inquired hesitantly.

 

"To help pluck the chickens." Clark replied with a straight face.

 

"Excuse me?"

 

"Yeah, you can't cook the feathers."

 

"Of course not," Lex agreed, feeling faintly ill.

 

"And you gotta kill 'em first."

 

Lex didn't respond.

 

"You know, you grab them by the head and - " Clark made a jerking motion with his hand.

 

"Aren't there laws against that sort of thing?" Lex protested.

 

"Not with farm animals," Clark assured him.

 

"I'm being entirely put on, aren't I?"

 

"Basically," Clark confirmed without ever changing expression.

 

 

*** *** ***

 

 

They're arrival at the encampment was met with a few curious stares but for the most part, Tanner had been correct: the SCA group was entirely cool with Lex's being there. They were crossing the small compound when Lex stopped dead in his tracks, grabbing Clark's arm. 

 

"Clark! You said there weren't any live chickens!"

 

Clark shrugged. "You didn't sound like you'd come if I didn't," he validated his actions. "Come on."

 

Clark began introducing him around to a chorus of 'greetings' and an occasional 'milord'. 

 

"Hey, Clark!" Jeremy hailed.

 

"Hey! Uh, Jeremy, this is Lex. My roommate," Clark added as an afterthought.

 

"Hi, Lex! Are we setting an extra place at the banquet table?"

 

"I am not touching those chickens," Lex replied absolutely.

 

"Strictly a beef man, heh?" Jeremy concluded.

 

"Cows?" Lex looked around quickly, searching the small village encampment for anything bovine.

 

"Play along," Clark whispered quickly to Jeremy. "He's kidding about the cows. But we probably need to get started with the chickens."

 

"Yeah, definitely," Jeremy agreed, having no idea what he was agreeing to. "It's getting late," he threw in for good measure.

 

Clark grabbed Lex's arm and started dragging him toward the penned chickens. "Come on, Lex. Everyone who eats has to contribute."

 

"I am not plucking any chickens!" Lex reiterated. 

 

Tanner walked up beside Jeremy. "What are they doing to the chickens?"

 

"I'm not sure," Jeremy puzzled, "but I don't think the Agricultural Department is going to like it."

 

They joined the gathering crowd by the chickens.

 

"Just crawl over and grab one," Clark was explaining to Lex.

 

Lex turned to the pen and eyed it for a moment. Turning back to Clark, he smiled. "You know," he said levelly, "you completely had me right up to now. I was buying it until I imagined how much you were going to enjoy watching me chase chickens around in circles. Good one, Clark!"

 

Clark shrugged unrepentant. "Are you kidding? It would've been great!" 

 

 

*** *** ***

 

 

It was well after midnight when they finally made it back to their dorm room. Lex reached over to flip on the light. Clark's hand pressed over his, stopping him, letting the full moon and the lights of the parking cast a borrowed illumination in the room. He backed Lex against the wall, closing the door as he did. He held Lex in place, slipping his knee between his lover's legs. Lex leaned his head back, giving Clark unfettered access to his neck. Clark licked the ridge of muscle from collarbone to ear, catching the lobe with his lips and tugging gently. Lex moaned into the dim room. 

 

Leaving him for the moment, Clark stepped backed and slipped the button-down flannel shirt off his shoulders. Lex didn't say a word when it pooled on the floor. Clark pulled the T-shirt off next, dropping it, too. He unbuttoned the dark jeans, pushing them past his hips. Toeing off his shoes, he stepped out of the pants. He'd forgone underwear earlier when dressing and now his cock pushed forward, already erect. He moved back to Lex and pressed himself to Lex's slender body. He gathered Lex's hands and trapped them behind Lex's back, holding them there between Lex and the wall. He thrust the length of his entire body against Lex rhythmically, a steady pulse in time to his heartbeat. Clark covered Lex's mouth with his, his tongue deep in Lex's mouth. He pushed his hips into Lex's, cocks separated only by the fabric of Lex's trousers. 

 

Lex tried to extract his hands from Clark's grip, it was a sin to let that much naked Clark go untouched. Clark's teeth bore softly into the flesh of his shoulder, cushioned by the thin sweater. Lex caught his breath, the dull sensation electric. Clark released him to pull the sweater over his head and immediately pressed his mouth to the bare flesh in the depression of Lex's shoulder. Sliding to his knees, Clark's mouth painted open kisses on the defined muscles over Lex's stomach, his large hands holding Lex's hips still as he writhed under the caress. Clark slid his fingers under the waistband of the dark trousers until he reached the fastener, slipping the button and easing the zipper down. He pulled the pants from Lex's hips, catching the cock in his mouth as it pushed free. He fisted his hands in the fabric and used it to pull Lex's cock into his mouth, allowing the pants to slip down Lex's legs as his cock pushed into Clark's throat. Clark dropped the pants and braced Lex's hips and swallowed, creating a warm, wet and insistent tug that centered on the head.

 

"Oh, fuck, Clark!" Lex groaned.

 

Clark let the hard flesh slip from his mouth and stood up, kissing the corners of Lex's lips. Lex devoured the taste of himself on Clark's tongue, kissing him over and over. When Clark pulled away, Lex protested.

 

"Shhh, hang on," Clark whispered, kneeling down to pull Lex's foot from the floor carefully. He lifted it out of the shoe and drug the pants leg free of Lex's foot. Repeating the action for the other leg, he stood again. "You know," he said, punctuating the words with long strokes of his tongue, "this is our first, official make-up sex," he pointed out.

 

"Then I think you should definitely fuck me."

 

Lex's whispered words went straight to Clark's cock. It jumped insistently in agreement.

 

"No problem," Clark acquiesced. He pulled Lex away from the wall and over to the desk, instructing Lex to stand in front of him. 

 

Lex complied, waiting. They kept the oils and lubes in the top desk drawer, something that had led to many impromptu fuckings during designated study times. Clark took out a vanilla oil and dribbled it onto his cock, rubbing it around slowly with his hand. After coating himself liberally he pulled Lex to him, kissing him. With one hand on Lex's shoulder, Clark pushed him down to his knees. Lex took the opportunity to take Clark's cock in his mouth, sucking at the foreskin before Clark pulled himself free of the talented mouth. Moving behind Lex, he knelt between Lex's calves, spreading Lex's thighs a bit more and pulling Lex down onto his cock, guiding himself deliberately into his lover.

 

"Jack yourself," he commanded, and Lex complied. "Harder!" 

 

The rhythmic jerk of Lex's body communicated itself to the cock buried in his ass, pushing both of them closer and closer. Lex came first, come shooting over his hand and onto Clark's thighs. Clark reached over and dragged the desk chair to them, pushing Lex across it. He pounded into Lex's ass and came hard, breathing fast and letting himself lay across Lex's sweat damp back for a moment. He wrapped his fingers around Lex's hand, bringing it to his mouth and kissing the knuckles, tasting Lex's come. He rubbed the milky moisture into the skin on the back of Lex's hand while he caught his breath. 

 

Pulling himself out of Lex, Clark stood and helped Lex up, checking covertly for bruises or damage as he always did. He always harbored the fear that in passion he might hurt his lover but so far had kept himself under control. They cleaned each other up and fell into bed, Lex propped against the pillows and Clark draped across his chest. The position wouldn't last long, Lex would squirm from underneath him and turn on his side, leaving Clark to spoon up behind him. But for now, Lex ran a hand through the silky, damp curls at Clark's neck.

 

"Clark?"

 

"Yes?"

 

"How soon can we fight again?"

 

 

*** *** ***

 

 

Clark was gone in the morning again, having volunteered to help out with the demonstrations the SCA had planned for the day. For Lex's part, the Fencing Club was holding a patron drive and the members of the Team were expected to attend. Lex consoled himself with the knowledge that Clark would be there, too, not too far away at the SCA camp and dressed in full Braveheart regalia, short skirt and all.

 

Outfitted in complete "fencing whites" and feeling like a neon sign, the first person Lex ran into on the compound was Warren, who was busy insulting two of the SCA members who had come over asking if the Fencing Club wanted to join in a demonstration. Lex recognized Jeremy from the banquet.

 

"The art of Fencing doesn't need to be defended," Warren sneered.

 

"Then why not go over and prove your superiority?" Lex challenged.

 

Warren cocked an eyebrow, showing his obvious disdain for the other group. "They do this every year," he explained while they left. "We just ignore them." He raised his voice as to be overheard by the boorishly clad group. "Where's the sport in engaging an opponent so obviously outmatched?" He turned to Lex, speaking in a more normal tone. "Why give them credence and validation by dropping to their level? We don't indulge them," he warned. 

 

Lex looked over at Clark, remembering the younger man's enthusiasm for the group, the banquet the night before and how much he'd actually enjoyed himself. "That's a good enough reason for me," he announced, leaving the Fencing Club and walking back to the Society.

 

"Luthor!" Warren warned.

 

Lex smiled back at him.

 

He tapped Jeremy on the shoulder. "Hi! I'm here for the demonstration."

 

"Are you sure?" Jeremy motioned back at Warren who looked red and vaguely apoplectic.

 

"Very," Lex insisted.

 

Jeremy grinned widely. "Suit up!"

 

He helped Lex climb into the padded leather tunic and arm guards. While he strapped on the heavily cushioned helmet, he explained the basic rules: "No leg shots and pull your strokes when you know they're gonna make contact."

 

Clark watched the scenario apprehensively from a few feet away. He was close enough. Lex moved to the center of the area marked off for combat and waited for his opponent. He had his first doubts about the stunt when Tanner walked onto the field.

 

Lex brought the cumbersome broadsword up to his face like a foil, offering the classic salute. He took up a preparatory stance and waited for the attack. Tanner lunged at him, bringing his own sword around in a downward blow aimed for Lex's skull. The move was easily deflected and Lex swung back, trying to use only the one hand but finding the weapon heavy and slow. Tanner threw out a two-handed swipe, moving faster than Lex expected and without the time to evade, he blocked, the two blades clanging together loudly. 

 

Lex was catching on, and ducked a wide sweep aimed for his head. For all the bluntness of Jason's attack, Lex could tell the other man was perfectly in control of his blade, not exactly as easy feat while wielding 10-odd pounds of steel. Talent and skill were things Lex could appreciate. He backed up and regrouped, settling into match and the worthy opponent. 

 

He swung the claymore around his head and brought it down against Tanner's blade, the impact jarred him. Years of swimming had given Tanner more than ample upper body strength so Lex changed his tactic. He danced out of reach, creating distance, a classic fencing move. Tanner closed the distance immediately, using it to gain momentum and rushing Lex. The offensive tactic threw him for a second and he admonished himself to quit thinking like a fencer before Tanner's broadsword took his head off. 

 

Figuratively, anyway. He actually managed to parry Tanner's next swing. He held the sword vertically in front of him, hilt up. Tanner let his blade slide down Lex's, letting the sword slip underneath Lex's and pulling back up intending to force Lex's weapons arm up and behind his head, hopefully losing his grip on the sword in the process. 

 

Lex stepped toward Tanner in anticipation of an entirely different return stroke. Bad mistake. Tanner pulled the blade upward with his considerable weight behind it. Lex's intent had been to close the distance between them and minimize the force of the stroke by catching the return maneuver at the hilt of the broadsword. Instead he took the hilt full on the jaw. Luckily, Tanner's rather large fist was wrapped

around the wooden handle to soften the blow. Even through the protective padding, Lex felt his head snap back and staggered aft with it, somehow managing to keep his grip on his weapon and his feet beneath him.

 

The couple of steps he'd staggered were completely understandable, he consoled himself. It wasn't every day one got smacked into sometime next week, after all. Tanner ripped his helmet off and rushed forward, sword extended behind him.

 

"Are you okay?"

 

Several pairs of hands attached to people he hardly knew were gathering to offer help. Help him do what, he wondered. He was on his feet.

 

"I'm fine!" he bit out sharply and actually regretting it. "Really," he tried again. Better. "Gimme a second."

 

He was fairly certain the ringing in his ears wasn't permanent. He flexed his jaw experimentally and was

glad he knew of at least a half-dozen decent restaurants with several soups on their menu.

 

"You sure you're okay?" Clark was just behind him, but then he'd been there since Lex had taken those steps backwards. Lex hadn't had to look for him to know that he was there. Clark began to tug at the straps fastening the helmet.

 

"Leave it, Clark, I'd like to keep going."

 

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea." Tanner interjected.

 

"I didn't see a weapon hit the ground yet," Lex protested. "Unless you've had enough."

 

Clark frowned, he knew Lex was intensely competitive and had a tendency to get overly focused. 

 

"I think I might have a round or two left in me," Tanner was saying, "if you're sure you're okay." He

moved back.

 

"Lex," Clark began, his misgivings plainly written on his face.

 

"Clark, I'm getting my ass kicked here," Lex pointed out.

 

"Yeah," Clark agreed, his tone conveying that it didn't matter to him "But it's just a game."

 

"No, Clark, you don't understand. *I* am getting my ass kicked here," Lex tried again.

 

When Clark would have said more, Lex cut him off, waving him silent.

 

"I'm having to struggle here, I'm playing catch up. I've certainly never had to do that in fencing club tryouts."

 

Clark exhaled, an audible but reluctant acquiescence. He re-fastened the helmet strap and backed away, holding his hands up in defeat.

 

"You should've painted your face blue!" Lex called as he retreated.

 

"Okay?" Tanner called suspiciously to Lex.

 

Lex grabbed the top of the helmet and gave it a good shake. Having felt a hint of the power that Tanner was capable of, he didn't want to take any chances. He hefted the sword and nodded.

 

And had an epiphany. 

 

He was trying too hard, trying to force the square event of broadsword dueling into the round hole of what he was familiar with. He was expecting his superior talent with the foil to give him some advantage over Tanner. It was doing exactly the opposite.

 

Lex was nothing if not adaptable. Tanner came forward with a single-hand, overhead strike. Lex relaxed and waited on the onslaught when everything in him screamed to back away, create distance. He wasn't stronger than Tanner, it was useless to go hand to hand with him. As Tanner brought his blade down for the blow, Lex ducked under it, throwing up his sword at the last moment so that Tanner's weapon found no purchase and glanced off of it, the momentum of the larger man's charge carrying him past Lex and forcing him to turn around. When he did, Lex was there with a side sweep that Tanner had to move sharply to block. Lex pressed in, keeping Tanner off-balance for a precious second or two before Tanner planted his feet and pushed back. Lex danced backwards to the cheers of the gathering crowd. 

 

"There goes my audience!" Tanner groused good-naturedly while he and Lex circled each other warily.

 

"They're fickle, always go with the underdog," Lex returned. He darted in and feinted left, a move Tanner countered easily.

 

Tanner pressed the attack, bringing his blade down twice in quick succession, sending Lex from an offensive posture to a defensive one quickly. Lex caught the second blow and rounded his sword in a classic deflection tact that left him free for an instant before Tanner regrouped and came at him again. Lex took the blows one after another, backing up out of necessity this time. Tanner feigned an overhead attack and reversed to come at Lex from the side, catching him completely unaware and sending sword and man to the ground.

 

Almost everyone present held their collective breath. From his uniquely undignified placement on the damp grass, Lex cocked his head to one side and sighed.

 

"I suppose you're counting this as a dropped weapon?" 

 

Tanner shrugged. "Hey! If it works, go with it!" he smiled, taking his helmet off. "How's your ass?"

 

Lex pushed his off as well. "Attractive, well-shaped and a little better off than my ego right now."

 

Tanner reached down a hand and pulled a wildly grinning Lex to his feet, offering the standard "I'm a good winner" handshake. Lex took it.

 

"At least I got my ass kicked by a rugged, good-looking son-of-a-bitch; you sure as hell can't get that on the fencing team.

 

Tanner pulled him into a one-armed bear hug which Lex accepted with grace. Back slaps and applause were distributed freely between the two participants. Chants of "feast, feast!" broke out.

 

"Oh, hell, no!" Lex vetoed immediately. "No more live chickens threats! How about pizza and beer on me?"

 

Approving hoots drowned out any other responses. The SCA members began quickly breaking down their camp, loading it all into a couple of decidedly un-anachronistic pick-up trucks parked nearby. 

 

"Clark!" Lex was walking over to him, efficiently pulling off the soiled white gloves finger by finger. 

 

"Yeah?"

 

"I'm really glad you're in my life. I wanted to be sure I said that."

 

Clark's smile was mixed with vague amounts of relief and gratitude and reciprocation. "I'm really glad, too, Lex."

 

Tanner walked over to them. "You guys coming?"

 

"Dressed like this?" Clark protested.

 

"Don't worry, Clark," Lex hitched his shoulders briefly, "we'll tell them I'm your cousin from out of town."

 

 

exeunt


End file.
